Daphne, Warrington, Draco, and Ginny sat quietly in the Training Room. They had each independently realized that this was the last time they would be together as a unit. Daphne turned a sealed letter over and over in her hands, waiting for the official summons to deliver it to whatever new captain she was to be saddled with.

Draco had offered to take it for her, so that she could get it over with, but her offended glare had stopped that. She refused to resign on his watch, and he loved her for it.

Draco sipped his tea from Ginny, for once barely noticing its taste.

The door to the Training Room opened. “Wow, they weren’t kidding when they said you guys were short on members.”

Draco turned his head towards the owner of the hideous, loathsome voice. “Come to gloat, Weasley?”

Ron dropped into a vacant chair between Ginny and Warrington. “I was interrogating the Death Eater you and Ginny got for us yesterday—thanks for that—and Harry mentioned you guys would fold up shop. What with the traitors, and the kidnappings, and the injuries…”

“Your point?” Draco spat out.

Ron shrugged, irritatingly nonchalant. “You needed another member, and I thought, hell, it’s been a long while since I’ve been on an active squad. So here I am.”

Draco stared, disbelieving. “You’re joining Slytherin Squad?”

Ron shrugged again. "With all the Death Eater attention focused on this squad, it seemed beyond stupid to just give them what they wanted."

Draco raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm glad somebody finally figured that out."

"We're not being disbanded," Daphne said with a relieved sigh.

Ron nodded patronizingly. “Now would be when you thank me, Malfoy.”

Draco’s face twisted with the pain of it. Before he could even start to form the words, Ginny cut in.

“Thank you, Ron,” she said. “We’d be lost right now if we had to disband on top of everything else. It means the world. To all of us.”

Draco gave a curt nod at that. It wasn’t so bad if he didn’t have to say the words himself.

Ron paused for a moment, then said, “Slytherins, Gin, really? And how’d you get yourself on medical leave, anyway? Harry just said you were injured.”

“Splinched herself pretty good saving Malfoy,” Warrington unhelpfully volunteered.

Ron’s eyes flared with cold light. “She what?”

Daphne nodded, misunderstanding Ron’s anger. “Sliced open all her vital organs.”

“Not all of them!” Ginny protested frantically. “Just a bit of blood, really. And I was saving myself too, Ron!”

Ron stalked over to Draco’s chair, glaring down at him. “You mean to tell me you nearly killed my sister. Again.” His words came out clipped and hard.

“No,” Draco said, and refused to stand. “Not me; them. The raid was so bad that it could have killed the most exceptional Auror I know.”

“And they captured two others,” Daphne added softly.

Ron and Draco glared daggers at each other.

"What did you get out of the interrogation, Ron?" Ginny asked hurriedly, determined to pretend nothing was wrong.

After a long, slow beat, Ron turned to his sister.

"Locations, mostly,” he grunted.  “Hermione's already sent her senior squads out to most of them."

That was the last straw. "So AGAIN we're excluded from what should be our mission," Draco fumed.

Ron laughed, dropping back into his own chair.

Draco turned to him, his mouth drawn in a hard, pale line. "Something amusing, Weasley?"

Ginny cast a worried look at Draco, as though about to intervene, but remained silent.

Ron snorted. “I said most of the locations, Malfoy, if you’d bothered to listen. Not all. She's left the most likely places out of her raids."

"What?" Draco snapped, utterly confused.

"She's saving them for us?" Ginny said, awed. "Because of her mole?"

Ron nodded. "Making it seem like she just doesn't know about the other places, not saying anything about them anywhere. So that when she sends Slytherin Squad in, after Ginny's healed..." He trailed off suggestively.

“They'll have regrouped there. All of them,” Draco said, with dawning understanding.

"That'll still be a lot to handle for five Aurors," Ginny pointed out. "Normally we'd at least have backup."

"Hermione and Harry will join us," Ron said, kicking his feet up on the small table. "But they can't even be seen to remember you exist until then. No one has the slightest idea who the mole is, and they can't take the time to root it out right now."

“It’s brilliant,” Daphne breathed, and Draco couldn’t help agreeing. Internally, at least.

“And now,” Ron added, with a pointed glare at the still-recovering Ginny, “we wait.”

But Daphne stood. “I’m done waiting. Lieutenant, will you show me the Patronus Charm again?”

Ginny stood, her face splitting in a grin. “I’d love to.”

A chair had been moved into the battle room specifically for Ginny, at Draco and Ron’s joint insistence, to both of their annoyance.

Within thirty minutes, Daphne seemed to have mastered the wand-work and the nuances of pronunciation. All that remained was—

“Can you think of a happy thought?” Ginny asked softly, not wanting to dredge up bad memories.

Daphne just laughed. “Too many to choose, but I think I have one that should do the trick.” Her voice turned hard, her face utterly focused, as she cried, “Expecto Patronum!”

Silver mist exploded from her wand, swirling in front of her like a shield of cloud. It was impressively large, but Daphne looked frustrated. She dispelled the charm with a flick of her wrist.

“Daphne, that was great! You--”

“Expecto Patronum!” Daphne ignored her lieutenant. Again, the silver mist, again the irritated flick. “Expecto Patronum!” she tried again.

“Daphne!” Ginny shouted before she could dispel the mist. “Stop it!”

Confused, she let the mist fade as she turned to her lieutenant. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Beating yourself up about it,” Ginny said. “Even Flitwick, our Charms professor, never had a corporeal Patronus.”

“You have one,” Daphne replied stubbornly.                                

“But you might not,” Ginny insisted. “You may eventually,” she added, to cut off the other girl’s protests, “but definitely not if you keep getting mad that you don’t have it.”

Daphne gave an abrupt nod, looking away. Moments later, she added softly, “But a non-corporeal Patronus won’t help me find Blaise.”

Ginny sighed. “Neither will my Patronus. It’s too big. And it’s still too soon to send one -- Blaise will still likely be under guard. Ron’s dog might be small enough, so we’ll try that tomorrow.”

“Ron has a corporeal Patronus,” Daphne said flatly. At Ginny’s nod, she started the wand movements again. “Screw that. I’m not letting the Weasel King beat me at anything. I’ve got it from here, Lieutenant. Expecto Patronum!”

Again the brilliant silver mist, quickly banished. Ginny stood with a sigh, recognizing stubborn determination when she saw it. At least Daphne would have plenty of practice.

Draco quite agreed with Daphne’s stance on waiting. And besides, he was naturally impatient, and saw no reason to stop just because his best friend was captured.

He paced the stretch of woods he’d specified in his letter. The top of Malfoy Manor showed just above the trees, distant and small from this edge of the warded land, buried deep in the heart of the woods. More importantly, it was an edge the Wardbreakers weren’t focused on. The gates by the front of the Manor held the attention of the Ministry officials, which suited Draco just fine.

A faint pop sounded behind him. Draco turned towards his old Potions master, looking out of place amongst the trees in his stained black robes. “You hoped I would have some... knowledge… on this matter?” Snape rasped.

Draco nodded, laying the tip of his wand against the wards, and watching the resulting ripples in the air. “No one’s been able to get in, including me. And wards this strong shouldn’t have fallen so quickly. There’s something I’m not seeing.”

Snape strode forward, laying his palm experimentally against the invisible barrier. “And you think I might.”

“You were there when Voldemort made them, weren’t you?”

His face tilted. “No.”

“Oh.” Draco looked away to hide his disappointment. “Thanks for coming then, I won’t waste any more of your--”

“I was there when he reinforced them.”

At Draco’s puzzled look, Snape continued. “You’ve had wards here all your life. The Dark Lord just took them, made them his, and made them stronger. Now when would that have been?”

Under Snape’s watchful eyes, Draco felt eleven all over again. “Right after Father got out of prison.”

Snape inclined his head. “And how well did your father and Voldemort get along at that time?”

Draco winced at the memory of the constant mocking and belittling directed towards his family, and his father’s failure in particular. “Not well.”

“So if you were Lucius, when Voldemort demanded control of your own wards, what would you have done?”

The realization hit Draco like a herd of hippogriffs. “He’d have built a backdoor into it. A way to take back control from Voldemort if he had to.”

Snape nodded. “I have no actual knowledge of its existence, yet given the current circumstances, it seems the logical explanation. If Macnair had stumbled across some hidden knowledge that allowed him to decimate wards in seconds...”

Draco placed his hand against the invisible barrier, resting against its impenetrable surface. “Then they would still be decimated.”

“Precisely.”

“But…” Draco’s mind wheeled as he tried to process the new information. “How would Macnair--” He cut himself off, not needing Snape to point out the obvious conclusion. “My father told them.”

Snape nodded.

“While my mother and I were still in there, he told them.” Bitterness seeped into his voice despite his efforts to hide it.

“The Death Eaters did not harm Narcissa, as you well know. In fact, everything you heard from the one you captured tells me that no harm was intended to come to anyone staying there, save the Weasley girl. They even failed to punish Zabini for trying to warn you.”

“At least not in front of me,” Draco growled. And harming the ‘Weasley girl’ was no small matter, not to him.

“Even assuming that were correct, why would Macnair care if it were in front of you?”

Growing dread settled over Draco. “You’re sure it’s Father? That his hand pulls the levers?”

Snape looked at Draco for a time, his black eyes grave and unwavering. “I see no other hand it points to. I am sorry, Draco,” he managed at last.

Draco sighed heavily. “Any idea how to reclaim the wards?”

Snape’s mouth twisted as he surveyed the land. “Something outside the wards, clearly. Likely close to the Manor, if he wasn’t thinking in terms of utmost security.”

“Utmost security?” The phrase scared Draco more than he would admit.

“Like getting a vault at a French bank in an assumed name, and putting a single enchanted item in it, designed to give the holder instant control of the wards.” Snape raised an eyebrow at Draco’s concern. “Lucius was hardly so meticulous. I think it much more likely to be located nearby.”

That managed to be reassuring even though his family honor still pricked at the insult. “How would I find it nearby, then? Scanning for magic?”

“Scanning for magical items,” his former professor corrected. “Even the faintest trace of magic could be it. Anything abnormal outside the edge of the wards should be investigated.”

Draco looked out over the vast forest his land encompassed, dreading the daunting task that lay before him. “Thank you. This has been... most helpful.”

The older man’s expression softened. “Do not hesitate to call, Draco. This world is too small to forget those we call friend.”

 “Likewise,” Draco said, a small lump sitting painfully in his throat.

Snape gave an abrupt nod, and Apparated away. The characteristic pop lingered softly in the still air.

Hermione paused to process the new information, her feet tucked up under her on her couch, a mug clutched casually in her hands. Ginny remained silent next to Draco, brow furrowed.

“Well, Lucius is still in Azkaban,” Hermione eventually replied. “So if he is pulling levers, they’d have to be long levers.”

“My mother removed his access to our vaults,” Draco supplied, “so that should hopefully cut down on his ability to bribe Aurors.”

Ginny frowned. “But he could have other accounts we don’t know about.”

Draco nodded. “I don’t see what we could do to stop that though.”

Hermione ran her hands over her face wearily. “You have no idea how frustrating it is to find so many holes in my ranks. At least Slytherin Squad lost its traitors during the fiasco at Yaxley's trial. And your raid on the Nott House, while difficult, clearly wasn't betrayed. If they'd known you were coming, they would have at least destroyed the evidence before you got there." She sighed deeply. "Which is more than I can say for any other squad. Vital information leaks like a sieve, no matter which senior squad I give it to. If I could have Slytherin Squad guard Azkaban right now, I would.”

“Wait, why can’t we?” Ginny volunteered. “I’m just recovering, but Azkaban shouldn’t be a problem for my injury, and I’m nearly better. How long’s it been since you guys rotated in?” She asked Draco. “I don’t remember anyone mentioning it.”

“We’ve never guarded Azkaban.” Draco raised an eyebrow at her. “It would be a family reunion.”

“Oh.” Ginny bit her lip, trying to hide her laughter. Hermione seemed to be struggling as well.

“I’d love to send a junior squad to scour the Malfoy Manor grounds, at least,” Hermione eventually replied, “but I’m worried it’ll draw attention back to you and your squad.”

Draco’s eyebrows nearly shot off his face. He hadn’t expected her to take action at all, let alone immediately.

“Once you send us on the raid, the Death Eaters will know anyway.” Ginny sipped absently on her hot chocolate. “Could you scour the grounds at that point? Unless there’s anything dire you need from your house before then, Draco?”

About to shake his head, he stopped when Hermione lit up. “Why do I always think in terms of Aurors?” she said, a little bitterly. “I’ll adjust the orders for the Wardbreakers a bit, and it shouldn’t cause a fuss at all. They might not find anything, but we can always go over the ground again after the raid. Is that good with you?”

“Sounds better than good,” Draco replied honestly.